


It's All Been Worth It

by gay_jeans



Category: The Greatest Showman (2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Barnum!Whump, Bromance, Burns, F/M, Fire, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, P. T.! Whump, Whump, a million dreams, a million dreams reprise, broken ribs, bromantic rescue, hurt!Barnum, i thought the million dreams reprise i had was pretty cute though, listen to me i absolutely loved barnum and phillip's chemistry in that movie, maybe some pre-slash if you squint, the soundtrack makes me want to sing and dance, whatever you guys want to see
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-16
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2019-03-05 14:03:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13389351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gay_jeans/pseuds/gay_jeans
Summary: AU where Phillip is the one that was missing during the fire scene, and Barnum goes after him.Hurt/Comfort and whump to ensue.Rated T just to be on the safe side, but nothing too graphic in here.





	It's All Been Worth It

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, this is my first TGS fanfiction, and my first ever fanfic on AO3. Needless to say, I'm somewhat nervous. So please give it a chance, if you're willing, especially if you love bromance, whump, h/c, and slight angst with a happy ending. Hope to see you all at the bottom!

"Fire! Fire! It's coming from the circus!"

 

Phineas Taylor Barnum never forgot the way he felt when the fire trucks roared past, in the direction of his circus. The way his heart plummeted to his stomach. How his throat seemed to close up. How in just a fraction of a second, mounds of guilt and regret sagged against his shoulders.

 

"Stay close, girls, stay with me," he ordered breathlessly, waving them on as he picked up his speed down the sidewalk clustered with curious and concerned bystanders.

 

The black silhouette of a still-growing crowd against the harsh glow of orange, angry flame stood between P. T. and the circus building.

 

His circus.

 

Oh, God, where were his people?

 

He shoved his way through tightly-packed bodies, stripping his coat off, before his hands found Lettie Lutz's shoulders. "Is everybody here? Is everybody okay?" He was shouting, yet the volume of the chaos appeared to ascend his tone.

 

But Lettie understood, although looked taken aback at his presence. "Yes, I think so."

 

"What about the animals?" He turned to O'Malley.

 

He shook his head. "We set them loose. What other choice did we have?"

 

His wide eyes searched around the restless flock of people, mumbling each name as he found each face. "W. D....Anne...Charles...Phill-"

 

"Where's Phillip?" Anne exclaimed.

 

Lettie sucked in a shallow breath. "I haven't seen him since the fight," her voice shuddered as both hands flew to her chest.

 

"What fight?" P. T.'s eyes narrowed.

 

Her furrowed brow was pointed back at the building. "Protesters, they set fire to the posters."

 

"Phin!" Charity's voice rang out behind him. "What's going on?"

 

His words couldn't come out fast enough. "Keep the children back. Don't let them see. Stay here." Just as he turned away, he saw Lettie and Anne each offering hands upon his girls' respective shoulders, and he knew they were in good hands.

 

His feet pounded against the pavement before he ducked into the burning wreckage. It was too late when he realized he didn't have any type of filter to shield his nose and mouth with. The flames, though somewhat at a distance, still managed to scald any skin not covered by clothing. He called out for Phillip. Nothing sounded back other than the crackling fire and creaking wood.

 

He circled the building at least once, feet never pausing, but P. T. wouldn't leave without Phillip. Not when it was his fault for abandoning the group, for putting such responsibility on a young man who didn't even want a part of it in the first place. He should've been there to deal with the mob. He'd done it before; he could've handled it. So no, he wasn't ready to show his ashamed face to the family he abandoned unless he could do something good for them. Phillip was good to them.

 

"Phillip! He choked. His shoulders racked with coughs, sweat and tears streaming down his cheeks. The coat fell from his grasp as he clutched his arms across his sides, doubling over, the hacking never relenting to allow him to breathe.

 

With a loud _pop,_ one end of a thick wooden beam came loose and swung in his direction. He'd barely righted himself again before it struck his side, sending him back several feet and cracking his head against the wall.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Phillip barreled his way past the fire truck in front of the circus. Sweat streaked through the light coat of grey soot on his face. He found his crowd in the front of the onlookers.

 

"Anne, thank God!"

 

"Phillip!" she cried, reaching out to him. Then she clutched his shirt and pointed a shaking finger at the building. "P. T., he just ran in to find you!"

 

An explosion sent the glass dome crashing all the way down to the entrance, brick and wood flying with. The crowd shrieked.

 

Phillip's breath hitched in his throat. He looked at Anne, squeezed her hand, and took off back towards the building. She shouted his name. He ignored it.

 

The doorway was reduced to nearly nothing, but he managed to squeeze his frame through the broken down brick and metal. He tugged his jacket off and jammed the fabric to his face, bounding about the area in search of the ringleader.

 

"P. T.?" His voice did little against the volume of the raging fire. He cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted again, louder. "Barnum!"

 

He turned, eyes grazing across the ground, when he saw a crumpled figure on the floor near the wall. He leapt over a flaming beam and dropped into a crouch next to the man.

 

"Barnum!"

 

P. T.'s right leg was twisted at an awkward angle, one that made Phillip wince. A deep gash had been struck into his forehead, blood running down his eyebrow. Black soot layered his exposed skin. With a free hand, he shook P. T.'s shoulder.

 

"Barnum, wake up," he yelled. He remained unresponsive. "Phin, your girls are waiting for you!"

 

There was a beat of silence that lasted far too long. One that allowed him to actually take in the fact that P. T. had been dead to the world for at least a few minutes, and if Phillip couldn't get him to wake up, he could could actually...no. Thankfully, a low groan interrupted his dread. P. T. coughed hard, then grabbed his ribs as his face twisted in pain.

 

"Come on," Phillip urged, pulling on his shoulder. "We'll be dead any second, now. You can't leave your girls like that!"

 

P. T. opened his eyes a hair, coughed and wheezed painfully enough to make Phillip cringe, then rolled on his side. "Up," he nodded.

 

Phillip slung P. T.'s arm across his shoulder and pushed them off the ground. That's when P. T. let out a sharp cry of anguish and nearly collapsed.

 

"Leg..." he wheezed. "Wrong."

 

Phillip gritted his teeth and tied the sleeve jackets at the base of his neck, like a handkerchief. P. T. had gone too long with his lungs exposed to the smoke, but he had no choice but to use the jacket for himself. That was the only way they'd have a chance at making it out alive. He tugged most of P. T.'s weight onto his back as he half dragged, half carried him out.

 

P. T. went limp just as they made it out the remains of the doorway. Phillip ripped off the jacket and pumped his aching, weighted-down legs as fast as they could possibly move to where medical personnel waited. With their help, he lowered his friend onto the canvas stretcher they had on the ground. Charity was by his side. Looking up, he saw Anne and Lettie talking with Helen and Caroline, consoling them.

 

"He's taken in way too much smoke, but he's still breathing. I think his leg may be broken and he's probably got a concussion." The words spilled out of his mouth distractedly, barely audible to him. All he could process was Phin's soot-covered face, his hair sweaty and astray. His bloodshot eyes barely fluttered open for a moment, landed on Phillip's, then closed again as his head lulled to the side. Charity stifled a sob as she clutched P. T.'s hand.

 

The medics loaded up and took him away, leaving Phillip and Charity to stare after the truck. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder. Anne. He laced his fingers through hers and let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Charity took P. T.'s bandaged hand in her own. He hadn't woken up yet. His face had been cleaned, the cut stitched and his ribs wrapped. It turned out that his leg wasn't broken, but his knee had dislocated. Phillip had informed her the beam he'd leapt over had probably come loose and struck him, and that was what injured his ribs and knee in the fall.

 

She combed trembling fingers through his hair and forced the tears back.

 

_"Every night I lie in bed...."_ Her voice was barely audible, coming in broken pitches. _"The brightest colors fill my head....a million dreams are keeping me...awake."_ She pressed her lips against his knuckles, gentle as a whisper from a mother to a babe. Then she let the tears fall.

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Charity left to eat and shower and check up on the girls. It was the night after the accident, and P. T. still hadn't woken up. The doctors had assured them there was nothing seriously wrong inside, it was just all the stress of the situation which caused the physical exhaustion. Phillip stuck his hands in his pockets awkwardly, then shuffled through the hospital door.

 

"Barnum, Barnum, Barnum," he chided under his breath. He stood at the foot of the bed, staring at the asshole who caused him to lose acceptance, respect, inheritance, but still made it all worth it. Who does that? Who _can_ do that?

 

"Alright, this feels immature, but no matter. I'm doing it." He took a deep breath and folded his hands behind his back.

 

"Phineas. When I first heard of you in the media, I thought you were crazy. Correction: I _knew_ you were crazy. No one in their right mind would've put their entire future on the snooty, judgmental middle and upper class people finding love and acceptance in what they considered 'mistakes' and 'outcasts.' And maybe they haven't done just that yet, but they're coming around. _You_ did that. You convinced them to give these guys a chance."

 

He pulled a chair up next to the bed, sat, but then stood back up and paced.

 

"They're all thankful for that Barnum, because you've not only given them a chance to gain respect in the eyes of others but also in themselves." He was quiet for a moment. "I've been referring to the circus as 'they.' _They_ were outcasts. _They_ learned acceptance. _They_ were given a second chance. What I really mean is _us._ The man I was before you gave me a headache about your show business pitch would not have dared to be on the same cover of a newspaper with these guys. That's not who I am now, thank God. I mean, they're all _people,_ not oddities. Because of you, I met Anne Wheeler. Beautiful mind, bold spirit, and the face of a goddess. Lord, she's too good for me. I'll never be able to repay you for that."

 

Phillip studied P. T.'s face. He'd regained some color in his cheeks. His breathing was somewhat steady.

 

"You know, I think I consider you my friend. You're probably the only genuine friend I've ever had. Even though I've lost any ounce of inheritance or respect from the yuppies....But thanks to you, it's all been worth it." Then Phillip threw his hands in the air. "But have mercy, why do I have to be the responsible adult in this relationship? I'm just a junior partner!"

 

P. T.'s head tilted in Phillip's direction, then one tired eye cracked open. He smirked, just a little. "What I have," he leaned his face into the crook of his elbow as he coughed - it sounded much better than the night of the accident - "is an over-compensated apprentice."

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Well, if you're reading this, I guess that means I did something right. Or maybe it's one of those where it's so bad you can't quit reading because it's highly entertaining to read something so horrible? Either way, I hope you have a wonderful day, and if you haven't had a wonderful day, I hope that you at least get a peaceful one. 
> 
> Quick question: What's everyone's favorite song and/or scene? My favorite songs (yes, plural of course) are A Million Dreams, The Other Side, and From Now On. My favorite scenes are the dances that go with!
> 
> Bye! Stay safe and love yourselves!


End file.
